Why The Ads For Christmas Engagement Rings Make Me Uncomfortable

It’s not even December,
but the “aggravating trends in holiday commercials” list is already
filling itself out quite nicely, and right behind the chart-topping
scourge of twee that is Pomplamoose
has to be the surge in ads for diamond merchants like Jared, Zales,
and Kay, all of which have decided that the best way for a man to
celebrate the season is to put a sparkly ring on his intended’s
finger. But all these ads are doing for me, a red-blooded American
female, is solidifying my belief that that I never want someone in
a relationship with me to feel like they have to
“propose.”

Those of you who (like me!) have been engaged and who are
straight women have no doubt been asked “how he proposed” by
inquiring acquaintances, and those of you who (also like me!) just
decided to get married and told inquisitive types that have no
doubt been met with a bit of disappointment. Which is why in this
montage, the men are all smiling smugly while the women freak out
at the sight of the gems proffered them, or even just their
boxes. The man acts; the woman reacts. It sets a pattern — and
maybe provides some foreshadowing for the wild-eyed craziness that
occurs in
Bridezilla mode. (Perhaps the element of surprise occasioned by
the proposal causes that strand of behavior to hit the ground
running?)

Sure, a lot of how one views the decision to get married depends
on how one views that old, weather-beaten institution. I have not
been married but in my perhaps overly romanticized worldview I see
an ideal marriage as a partnership, as a combining of two people
who enjoy each other and respect each other and see each other as
equals and who want to legally solidify that mutual love and
admiration, and perhaps throw a party for a bunch of people they
like as a celebration of that fact. But the whole notion of the
“proposal” set forth by these ads, and
other cultural artifacts celebrating it, is a more
civilized/sparkly way of Tarzan forcibly throwing Jane over his
shoulder. (Not to mention that in the current moment, the whole
idea of the man in the heterosexual relationship being the only one
who can afford a gemlike token of the sort offered by
these shops is a luxury left to either the financially suicidal or
the extremely rich. Although I should probably note that I’m also
opposed to gross artifacts like that ring women are supposed to
wear on their right hands to indicate that they are “available and
happy,” because, yuck.)

This is not to say that I’m begrudging the happiness of people
who proposed and were proposed to and were happy. Hey, knock
yourselves out! But I think that the three months’ salary that
would go toward a bauble would be put to better use when combined
with the partner’s income over that same timespan, and put toward
something that both people could enjoy — a house, a trip to the
south of France, or maybe even the marriage celebration itself.
(Oh, how much extra money catering halls charge when you utter the
word “wedding” …) And the idea that said treat would be something
mutually agreed-upon? Would make it only sweeter.